


WE CARE FOR EACH OTHER *REVISED VERSION*

by soiguessimgaynow



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ian is an idiot, Inspired by Shameless (US), Kissing, Love, M/M, Mickey is still low-key a soft boi for Ian, Post Season 5, Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Shameless, Swearing, Tags to be added, love is love is love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soiguessimgaynow/pseuds/soiguessimgaynow
Summary: It's been four years since Ian Gallagher walked out on his South Side life without a single word of goodbye or a backward glance. Now he's returned home, ready to rekindle a love he left behind that may be harder to get back than he expected.*Canon Divergent**EDITED AND WITH ADDED MATERIAL NEAR END*
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	WE CARE FOR EACH OTHER *REVISED VERSION*

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!  
> So this is my first ever upload to Ao3, though I have been a reader on here for years and have only now made an actual account. This is also my first ever ACTUAL fan fiction, as in using canon characters and whatnot. I hope I've done them justice! I wrote all this in one night, roughly in around 2 or so hours so..... any feedback is MUCH appreciated and maybe I'll write something longer in the future.  
> Originally this was supposed to end in smut, but I backed out at the last second and wrote a smoopy ending, though I am open to adding another chapter in the future depending on peoples reactions. 
> 
> Enough rambling from me, I hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> *EDIT: Made some changes to the story and did some general editing of spelling/grammar errors that I missed the first sweep!*

The sound of slamming doors in the middle of the night wasn't unusual for the South Side, though Mickey could count on one hand the last time he'd had a visitor over so late.

On instinct his hand went to the bat he kept idling the right side of the bed, a habit his sister Mandy desperately wished he would grow out of. Not bothering with the lights, Mickey hung close to the walls of the small house, ducking his head around the corner of his bedroom doorframe to eye the living area. It was the almost the same as when he'd left it before turning in for the night. A couch covered in beer cans planted itself in the center of the room and a plate of stale pizza rested on an over-turned bookcase-come-table. Mickey wasn't one to pride himself on décor, thinking the fact he'd lived long enough to not only make it out of the shit hole he used to live in with his dead-beat, God rest his deceased and rotting soul, father and into a slightly less disgusting place he could call his own was merit enough. The only difference between the scene his narrowed blue eyes was currently looking at and the state of the room only a few hours earlier was the bleeding giant of a red-head hanging onto his coat rack for dear life.

"Gallagher?" Mickey called out, scratching his eyebrow in confusion. 

The words spooked the other man, who quickly found himself crashing to the floor in surprise, taking the rack down with him. The flood of fabric and gangly limbs had Mickey rolling his eyes, dropping the raised bat to his side. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Firecrotch. Four years of radio silence and you think it's fucking okay to blow in here and start busting my shit up?"

Blinking from the ground, Ian Gallagher ran a hand through his hair, taking his time to unravel from the three coats Mickey had added to his wardrobe since the last time they'd seen each other. 

"Figured it was only right to tell you myself I was back in town." Ian muttered, foot kicking loose a sleeve that was clinging to his worn boots. His green eyes were down cast, jaw clenching as he swallowed hard and waited for whatever Mickey was going to say next. 

Deep down Ian knew it was a stupid and risky decision, coming back into his ex-boyfriend's life. An ex-boyfriend who wanted nothing more than to help him after his entire world flipped off its axis. Someone he threw away while in the throes of mania, believing that the only way to get ahead in life was to get rid of what he already had. While Ian stood by his decision to get out of the South Side, attempt a life on his own, he quickly realized how stupid he was to let the love of his life go without saying a word. It stood as one of the many reason he'd come back home. 

Fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket, Ian waited for Mickey to say something back. Instead, the brunet threw down the bat entirely and entered the living room. Dropping down with ease on the overstuffed couch, Mickey kicked over the plate of food to throw his feet up, assessing Ian's twitching form.

"Why you bleeding?" Mickey said, nodding at Ian's split lip and bruised cheeks, a sudden coolness taking over his voice. 

"You aren't the only person not too pleased to see me around here again," The red-head grinned back, rubbing the back of his neck as he remembered Lip's choice words and upper-cut to the face. Stealing his brothers hidden cash and car had deserved him such punishment, but you'd think the guy would go for a hug first after almost half a decade without contact. Ian clicked his jaw again, reminding himself he had come there with a purpose. 

"If you're expecting me to throw myself at your feet Gallagher, you're in for a world of disappointment," the beer can Mickey took a slow drag from was flat, warm, and toe curdling as it glided down his throat. He didn't miss the way Ian watched the action, and tried hard not to let the effect of it show. Mickey was pissed off. Glad his place wasn't being broken into, but still pissed at the piece of shit in front of him who still somehow had a hold over on him all these years later. 

"I'm amazed to still be conscious if I'm being honest," Ian chuckled, grinning to himself as Mickey threw his head back in a hard eyeroll. The red-head smiled to himself at the action. Even after all these years Mickey was just as animated in everything he did as Ian remembered.

"A beatdown can still be arranged, asshole. Don't test me." He muttered and Ian seemed to have gained some confidence. Falling into the routine of their harsh words and teasing undertones, he dared to squat down on the table by the brunet's feet. 

"Please, I bet you haven't made a fist in years," Ian said, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Debbie told me you're working at Fi's diner? Since when is my sister a businesswoman."

"Since she decided to get her shit together," Mickey cut in, throwing Ian an annoyed look complete with arched eyebrows. "Not sure if I can say the same about you."

Ian's smile flattered a little, less bright when he put it back on. Eyes trained on Mickey's socked feet, he hunched in on himself a little before responding. "I've got my shit together."

"You clean?"

"This your way of asking if I fucked around on you?" Ian smirked, dropping it at Mickey's serious expression. "Course I'm clean, Mick."

"You taking your meds now?" Mickey clarified, fully discarding the beer in his hands to give Ian his full attention. Gallagher stammered under the heavy weight of his dark blue eyes. Eyes Ian never could quite get right on the nights he thought back to his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, Ian reminded him. He had left, no explanation, no warning. Mickey wasn't his anymore, as much as he hoped he was. 

"I don't like the way they make me feel," Ian said, looking up at Mickey's hard sigh and spoke quickly when the older man made a move to speak. "But I'm on them. All of them. Even that shitty grey pill that made me itch all over, and the one that made me kick you in my sleep. I take all of them."

Mickey arched a brow at that, peering at Ian's earnest face. The years had done him well, Mickey could admit that much. His skin its usual pale shade, eyes as bright yet haunted as always. Gallagher had packed on muscle too, showing under his jacket, and just enough to make Mickey wonder if he could still take the guy on in a fight and come out the winner. 

"You want a medal or something?" Mickey replied, fingers itching for a cigarette. It was a vice he gave up after his father Terry finally croaked it. Part of the whole turning a new leaf scheme Mandy convinced him to buy into. New leaf also meant accepting a life without Ian in it, but here they were. 

"A 'Welcome back, Ian' would be a little nice." Ian shrugged.

"Welcome back means I was waiting around for you," Mickey stated bluntly, finally standing up. "I knew fuck all about you leaving, you shouldn't have expected me to throw a parade when you came back."

"Mick," Ian said, voice soft and a little desperate when he reached out for the other man. Automatically Mickey slapped the hand away, staring down at it with an unreadable emotion.

"I should kick your ass for busting my locks." He said and Ian quirked his head to the side, making his bruises more pronounced under the yellowing lights coming from the open windows. 

"Door was unlocked."

"Son of– I fucking told Manuel the lock was faulty. Fucking cheapskate," Mickey scoffed, rubbing a tense hand over his mouth before shaking his head. "Hopefully it'll jam shut after I throw your ass out."

"Mickey–"

"Don't fucking test me, Gallagher. You're not the only one here who can fly off their fucking hinges." Mickey warned, jabbing a finger at Ian's chest, quickly pulling back as though burned.

That one touch had managed to pull a spark from deep within Mickey, one he attempted to crush underneath his boiling anger. Anger was good, Mickey knew how to work with the emotion well. Unfortunately for him, his brain reminded him that most of the time getting angry with Ian resulted in passionate, rough sex that left both of them winded but satisfied. He shook that thought away, burying it deep as he glared at Ian. There was no way in hell he was letting that happened tonight. Not after everything that ginger demon had put him through the past few years.

"I got a job transfer back down here, working as an EMT," Ian said suddenly, getting to his own feet. Mickey watched as the younger man slipped off his jacket, draping it across the couch as if it belonged there. If things had gone down differently between them, maybe it would've. "Fi said I could crash on the couch for a while, since all the rooms are gone, just until I find my own place. I take my meds regularly now, twice a day."

"The fuck's that supposed to mean to me?" Mickey asked, confused and very aware of the way Ian was suddenly looming over him. The red-head was fast, quick strides aided by long legs Mickey knew there was no point in trying to out run. 

"It means I'm better now." Ian said, cautiously reaching his hands out. They settled on Mickey's shoulders without any rebuffing, the brunet trembling slightly under their weight. The skin exposed heated quickly at the contact, making Mickey both glad and angry at himself for wearing a wife beater to sleep. He was just grateful Ian hadn't come on one of the lonelier nights, when Mickey couldn't stop himself from huddling under Ian's old sweatshirt, pressing in as close as possible to the worn fabric. 

"Mick?" Ian's voice was questioning, forcing Mickey to look up at him with eyes filled with a deep pain he never thought he'd be able to unleash on Ian.

"I could've helped you. Why didn't you let me help you?" He said, words collapsing in the middle as he forced himself to take breath and stay calm. "You fucking ran, like a coward. Didn't say shit to me, or your family. Fucking no one knew where you were or how long it would be till you crawled your ass back here. If you were feeling shitty, or fucked up, whatever, we could've worked through it together. We were supposed to be a fucking team you ginger haired piece of shit."

Ian swallowed hard, own eyes growing glassy as he took in Mickey's words. 

"I know," He whispered, daring to bring a hand up to the side of Mickey's face. The action was shoved away, Mickey attempting to duck out of Ian's grip only to be caught at the last second. "I know, and I'm sorry."

"Let me go you son of a bitch," Mickey hissed through gritted teeth but Ian persevered until Mickey was wedged into his chest. The shorter man struggled in his hold for a while before growing still, heavy breaths filling the air.

"I'm home now," Ian said. "And I swear I'm never leaving again. We take care of each other. I remember that now."

Mickey choked out a breath against his chest, shaking hands gripping Ian's hips tight enough to hurt. "Fuck you, Gallagher."

"Let me make this right again, Mickey." Ian said, voice not raising above a whisper as he pressed his lips to the crown of the brunet's head. The subtle touch was enough to break any resolve Mickey had left in him. With desperation he shot forward, clipping Ian's chin in the process, and brought their lips together in a kiss so filled with longing Ian's heart beat a little faster. Claiming hands teared at clothing, sinking into skin with the only intention to mark and remind themselves that the other was there, in their arms, real. 

It wouldn't be until later in the night, while pressed against Mickey in a queen-sized bed that had seen better days, that Ian would tuck himself along his boyfriend's bare back, sighing against the brunet's skin the five words he'd been dying to say since the day he left.

"I love you, Mickey Milkovich."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


End file.
